


Baby, it's Cold Outside

by LilMissHammond



Category: Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, M/M, RIchard is all panicky and cute, Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-17 09:17:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3523871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilMissHammond/pseuds/LilMissHammond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James May accidentally spills boiling water in Hammond' lap.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby, it's Cold Outside

The gentle knock on his front door startled James more than it should have, since he already knew Richard was coming around. He shook his head at himself, abandoning his tea set up and going down the hall to unlock the door to Hammond, who was bouncing slightly to try and keep warm.

"Tea, Hammond?" he asked before the other could even say hello.

Richard nodded eagerly. "Please. It's bloody freezing out." He followed James down the hall, remembering to toe off his snow covered boots just in the door.

"Hang your coat on the back of a chair," James said, busying himself with pulling down a mug for Richard.

Richard did as told, then flopped into the overstuffed armchair in front of James's crackling fire. He stretched out lazily, cat-like, wriggling his cold toes.

"Don't put them too close, Rich, you'll get frost bite," James warned from the kitchen.

Richard rolled his eyes, but drew his feet back slightly. The fire was hot enough that he could already feel himself starting to defrost slowly. "I still can't believe you wormed your way out of filming today."

Pouring the boiled water into the mugs, James rolled his own eyes. "You could have gotten out of it too, remember. But you wanted to stay there." He sent a smirk over his shoulder at Hammond, who glared.

"Whatever," he grumbled after a moment.

James laughed. He sloshed some milk into the mugs, then carried them through carefully. He placed his own on the coffee table, then shuffled forwards to pass Richard his, only for his toes to snag the corner of the rug. He lurched forwards, stumbling to regain his balance, and the tea flew out of his hand. And right into Richard's lap.

"Fucking hell, May!" Richard yelped, leaping up off the chair.

When he righted himself, James couldn't help but snigger. "Least you're warm now."

"Oh ha bloody ha," he snapped, shoving past James and heading for the bathroom, muttering under his breath.

James collected the fallen mug with a small smile and went into the kitchen, hearing Richard curse and grumble even through the closed bathroom door. He put the mug in the sink and grabbed the Handy towels, then went back out into the lounge and started mopping up the tea. When he was done, he collapsed on the couch and sipped at his own tea.

Richard came out of the bathroom not long later, wrapped in James's fuzzy dark blue bathrobe, still grumbling. He perched on the other end of the couch and crossed his arms.

"Alright?" James asked, trying not to laugh.

Richard huffed, refusing to look at him. Bloody bastard poured boiling water into his lap, of course he wasn't alright.

James continued to sip of his tea, not minding the grumpy silence one bit– any form of silence from Hammond was a miracle.

"James," Richard spoke after a while, rather softly, almost like he was embarrassed.

James glanced over at him, raising one eyebrow.

"Got any beer?"

He nodded, stood, and went back into the kitchen. Richard was still quiet and he wondered why. He grabbed two bottles out of the fridge, and the little magnetic bottle opener off the door, popped the lids and went back to the lounge. He passed one to Richard with exaggerated slow movements and the other man laughed.

"Yes, alright, you're being careful. Got it."

James grinned at him, happy to hear Richard laugh, and plopped down on the sofa. They sipped the cold beers, chatting away again like usual. Hammond scooted up a little on the tiny couch, turning his body so he could face James as he relayed a very amusing story about Jeremy.

James was glad that his mate was back to his happy self; although it was nice, quiet Hammond weirded him out. He lay his arm on the back of the couch like he often did, dangling his almost empty bottle from that hand as he listened to Richard's story with a wide smile.  
Richard's eyes darted to James's hand, only inches from his arm, and wondered if James stretched out his fingers, would they brush his skin? He blinked away the odd thought, dragging his eyes back to James's smiling face. He returned the smile, a little shakily, and took a swig of his beer. He continued telling James about what he'd missed during that day's filming, but his mind kept drifting, his eyes too, to the arm on the couch.

James suddenly withdrew his arm, but only to drain the last of his beer. He leaned forwards a little to place the empty bottle on the coffee table, but realized there was no coaster. So he shifted forwards, reaching in front of Hammond and snagged a coaster. As he pulled back, his hand brushed Richard's knee lightly. He set the coaster down, followed by the bottle, and looked at Richard.

"Want another?"

Richard, it seemed, didn't hear him. He was seemingly zoned out, staring at his lap.

"You okay, Hammo?"

Still no response.

"Hamster?"

Richard continued staring blankly at his knee, not really seeing it. His mind was a flurry of thoughts, each whizzing by so fast he barely registered them. But certain thoughts pertaining to James, how his hand had brushed Richard's knee so casually, stuck in the forefront of his mind. He jumped when he felt James's hand lightly touch his shoulder, and he looked over with wide, startled eyes.

"You alright, Hammond?" James asked slowly.

Richard shook his head. "No, I'm fine. I just..." he trailed off, staring up at James. He realized his hand still rested on Richard's shoulder. He realized he was freaking out, he couldn't do this.

Without warning, Richard leaped from his seat, his own empty beer bottle tumbling to the ground. He backed away from the couch, knocking into something and scrambling quickly for the door. He mumbled a quick "sorry", grabbed his coat and raced out the door, not daring to look back.

**Author's Note:**

> If you guys like what I write, consider supporting me by [Buying Me a Coffee](https://ko-fi.com/A2169Y9)


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